disclaimer: i do not own phantom of the opera or the two characters at the end whom are dressed oddly. they belong to some fertilizer salesman in texas.

-

It was dark. But then, it usually was dark. Not much sunlight penetrated thick dungeon walls. It was common knowledge.

But whatever.

Erik yawned. He was really freaking hungry.

He got out of bed with much effort. Christine was still asleep on the other side of the rather gaudy swan bed; snoring lightly and clutching a stuffed monkey she had named "Georgie". Some women were absolutely gorgeous when they were asleep. Christine was not one of these women.

"THE HORRIBLE CLONES! MARCHING INTO THE CITY…!" she cried out in sleep. Erik blinked. Lord, she was strange sometimes.

He stumbled out of the bedroom into the kitchen, and opened the icebox. Eggs…no…bacon…a couple of cantaloupes…Piangi's severed head…some leftover steak that had green things consorting and starting a family on…

Erik grumbled. This food sucked. He turned around to go see if some food would materialize behind him, and instead settled his eyes on a giant pink elephant. Astride it was what appeared to be a dead girl dressed in a long black cape with a piece of paper taped over the right side of her face in a feeble imitation of Erik's.

"Hello, kind sir," the elephant said respectfully.

Well, that did it. Erik had seen many horrible and strange things in his lifetime, which would have driven weaker men to madness. All men reached a point when they broke. Well, he must have reached his point a while ago. Now, Erik was certain that he was truly mad.

Oh well. Best to run with it.

"Hello." Erik said nonchalantly. "May I ask why you have a dead woman dressed like me tied to your back?"

"Certainly."

"…Why do you have a dead woman dressed like me tied to your back?"

"Well you see, this young lady (my master) here happens – or happened, I should say – to be a very big fan of yours. She read a book about you…"

Erik blinked. He didn't know there was a book about him.

"…She saw the musical, she read the spin-off book by that British woman…"

Again, Erik was not aware that he was so famous.

"…And just recently she saw the movie. She was quite enamored with you, yes, quite enchanted with the magical world of EC-ness…but unfortunately she was a bit…twisted. So she had me, her faithful pet elephant Binky, climb atop the Viscount de Chagney's roof, and being of – well - considerable girth, I simply shattered the house and crushed young Raoul – poor soul…"

Erik would have snorted derisively, but he decided against it. You just don't snort derisively in front of a polite pink elephant.

"Since Raoul was now dead and Christine was now free to be with you, she inexplicably committed suicide by overdosing on headache medicine, but not before dressing herself in your image, tying herself to me, and instructing me to take her to you. She was a very strange girl," the elephant finished.

"Well…" Erik said, "I believe your story has only proved to me one thing."

"What is that, my lord?"

"The world has gone bloody mad. Absolutely incurably, frighteningly mad." Erik said, and decided to eat that bacon after all.

-

Meg was fed up.

She disliked being in a plotless world, her only purpose to serve as a love interest for the Opera Ghost, Raoul, or Andre and Firmin simultaneously. It was true that she had never heard of a world where she had banged Andre and Firmin simultaneously, but she was certain that somewhere out there, there was such a place.

Then again, maybe there wasn't. Whatever. But still.

She wanted to do something. Meg wanted to be important. But to be important, there first needed to be a plot. Unfortunately, there currently was none.

Meg sat down on the stage, watching the other ballet dancers practice, when she witnessed something truly odd.

A man in a long black and red cloak was wandering around in the wings, followed by another man with huge knees and cloven feet. The man in the cloak had an enormous mustache and a large stick with what appeared to be a burnt hand on it. The big-kneed man wore filthy clothing with a fedora, and had only one hand surprisingly.

"Come, Torgo," the cloaked man said in barely more than a whisper. "We shall take over this pitiful place, and I shall find new wives."

"Yes, Master."

Unfortunately, their mystique was destroyed when a sandbag fell on top of the cloaked man.

"Ooof!"

Meg stood up. It appeared she had found her plot, in the guise of two Mystery Science Theater 3000 outcasts.